


All's Fair in War and Politics

by pippathewriter



Category: Brave (2012), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Celts, F/M, Gen, Vikings, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippathewriter/pseuds/pippathewriter
Summary: When a trading ship is attacked by vikings off the coast of Scotland, the Clans must band together once more to drive out the invaders. However, the Celts are unprepared for the Vikings' new weapons - dragons. Can a forbidden friendship save the Celts and the Vikings before they completely destroy one another?





	1. Declarations of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 1-5 were written prior to the release of How to Train Your Dragon 2, therefore, it's set in an alternate timeline in which the second movie never happened.
> 
> Post-Brave, Post-How to Train Your Dragon.

Returning from a ride through the glen, Merida caught her mother's eye as she walked into the room and remembered to hang her bow over the back of her chair rather than placing it on the table. After the whole bear incident, Merida and Elinor had both been trying to make changes, such as Merida trying to remember not to place her bow on the table, and Elinor had stopped complaining that her daughter had a weapon in the first place.

Taking a seat at the table, Merida helped herself to some dinner. Maudie chose that moment to enter the hall, carrying a tray.

"Letter from the Clan MacGuffin." Maudie announced.

"That'll be for me then." Merida said, rising from her seat and making her way around the table to pluck the letter from the tray before it reached her mother. The queen smiled at her daughter, sure that when she was ready to marry, Merida would choose Lord MacGuffin's son as her groom. Of her three suitors, it was young MacGuffin who wrote Merida the most, and she was always quick to reply.

The redhead turned over the letter to open it, and the expression on her faced changed from a pleased grin to disappointment. "Mum, it's the lord's seal. I think it's fer you." With a sigh, she handed the envelope to the queen.

"I'm sure he'll write soon, lady." Maudie said with a curtsy before scurrying from the hall.

"Aye." Merida said, her voice having lost the tone of excitement it had held only moments before. She dropped into her seat with a thud and picked up a chicken leg from the nearest platter. Taking a bite, Merida glanced sidelong at her mother, to see that Elinor's brow was furrowed. "What's the matter?"

"The invaders have returned." Elinor said, glancing past Merida to her husband, Fergus, who sat at the other end of the table with a chick leg in each hand. "They attacked and sunk a trading ship just off the coast of Fief MacGuffin."

The family fell silent, and everyone looked to Elinor, whose gaze was locked with her husband's. "They're sending out a fleet to strike back, and he's asked for our support – they want us to send troops."

* * *

"Hiccup!" Astrid's voice woke the viking boy from his slumber. Opening his eyes, he found that Astrid was in his bedroom.

"Morning Astrid." Hiccup greeted his girlfriend with a smile as he propped himself up on an elbow. But instead of giving him a kiss and engaging in some early morning flirting, Astrid threw something on his bed and left in a hurry. Hiccup glanced at the leather, iron and furs that lay in a heap on his bed – his armour.

His heart beating faster, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and pulled on his clothes at top speed before hurrying outside as fast as he could with only one flesh and blood leg. Sure, he had a metal prosthetic, but even after having had it for a few years, he still couldn't move as quickly as he once might have.

When he found that it wasn't even dawn yet, Hiccup felt cold dread in his stomach. Toothless leaped down from his perch on the roof, and Hiccup mounted the dragon and flew after Astrid. "Astrid, what's going on?"

"Stoick's back." Astrid said simply, hurrying into the great hall. Hiccup dismounted Toothless and hurried after her.

Pushing through the doors into the great hall, Hiccup paused when he saw his father seated with two other men, all three looking worn and defeated. Part of Stoick's beard seemed to have been singed off, and one of the men had a bloodied cloth tied tightly around his arm.

"Dad, what happened?" Hiccup asked in alarm as he hurried towards his father. "Rogue dragons? The riders and I can drive them-"

Hiccup fell silent mid-sentence when Stoick held up a hand. "Worse than dragons, son."

"Outcasts?" Astrid supplied as Gobber crouched down by the third man and began trying to pry what looked like half an arrow shaft out of his leg.

"Even worse than outcasts." Stoick said. "Celts."

"Celts?" Hiccup repeated. "But why? I thought we were at peace with the Celts."

"Don't be daft, son." Stoick said. "Ye can't make peace with a Celt."

"Well, not-war then. I thought we were at not-war with the Celts."

"Not anymore." Astrid said softly to Hiccup as Stoick rose from his seat and limped into another room with his brother Spitelout, one of Berk's top warriors and the father of Snotlout, who would be next in line for the chiefdom of Berk if anything happened to Hiccup.

* * *

"Ye'll be careful, won't ye?" Merida whispered to her father, as she pulled the Bear King into a close embrace.

"Aye, my darlin, I will." He told his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "And ye'll listen to yer mum, and do as she asks?"

" _Daaaaaad_." Merida complained.

"Fer me."

The redhead pouted, then sighed as she gave in. "Oh, aye, Ah will if Ah must."

And then she watched as her father turned away and made his way onto the ships. The king was taking a fleet up the coastline towards Fief MacGuffin to reinforce the Clan's claim to the rights of the land. Only that morning, they'd received another letter from Lord MacGuffin, informing them that a viking fleet had launched yet another attack.

The fleet that Lord MacGuffin had sent out in retaliation to the attack on the trading ship had returned with a lot of damage, and half of the fleet had been sunk in the battle that had ensued. But the vikings weren't finished yet, and had sent another fleet against the Celts.

Fief MacGuffin was gearing up to go to war, and just as they had two decades before, the clans would have to band together to drive out the invaders. Clan MacIntosh and Clan Dingwall had yet to respond to Lord MacGuffin's plea for assistance, but now that the king was pledging his forces to assist Lord MacGuffin, it was only a matter of time before they also arrived with their troops and their armoured ships.

"Good luck." Merida whispered as her father gave the command to raise the anchor and set sail.


	2. The Will O' the Wisp

Hiccup didn't like it. Despite his having tamed a Night Fury and conquered a Red Death, his father still kept him from the action. Sure, he was allowed to be out and about while it was going on, but he was discouraged from participation.

But it wasn't his being kept from the battle that was bothering him. It was the fact that they were at war in the first place. His experiences with dragons had taught him that nothing happened without a reason. The dragons didn't attack because they were violent, but because they had been enslaved. The Outcasts sought revenge for being cast out. Hiccup found it hard to believe that the Celts would attack them unprovoked. Especially when they'd been co-existing quiet peacefully for the past two or so decades. Granted, their co-existence had been built on a mutual agreement to each pretend the other did not exist, but still, they had been at peace. He couldn't help feeling that something was amiss about the whole situation.

In this particular instance, he'd been somewhat pleased to have been sent ahead as a scout.

Dipping down out of the clouds, Toothless banked right and the duo flew lower, scanning the Highlands for any signs of life. Astrid, who'd argued her assignment as a scout until Stoick had told her she either started scouting or he'd send her home, now followed Toothless on Stormfly, a frown fixed on her pretty face as she banked left to do a full sweep of the countryside in the opposite direction.

* * *

"Ach, Merida, will ye stop yer pacing?" The queen asked, giving her daughter an irritated look as the girl paced back and forth in the castle. "I'm sure yer lad's alright."

"Ach, mum, he's not _my lad_." Merida said, her cheeks flushing red at the mention of Lord MacGuffin's son. "And Ah'm not pacing from worry. Ah feel like a trapped animal, locked up in the castle all day! Are ye sure Ah can't convince ye to let me take Angus out fer a ride?"

"Merida, how many times must I tell you, the highlands are not safe for a princess while the land and sea are at war!"

"Ach, mum, all the fightin's at Fief MacGuffin anyways. The vikings won't have made it this far inland." Merida complained to the queen, dropping herself into the nearest chair with a loud thud and a bored sigh.

"Merida-"

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease mum! Ah'll be careful, Ah promise! Ah'll take my bow and Ah'm only going to ride through the glen!" Merida begged, her hands clasped as she laid across the table, trying to convince her mother to let her do as she pleased.

Elinor turned her doe-brown eyes to her daughter, tipping her face forward to show her she wasn't impressed, then sighed. "Ye have an hour."

Merida jumped up from her seat with a squeal of delight and hugged her mother before she vanished in a flourish of skirts, grabbing her bow as she fled the castle, anxious to feel more than a thousand pounds of Clydesdale beneath her once more.

* * *

Hiccup murmured to his best friend and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. The dragon warbled in response before he began his descent as his master had asked him. Hiccup watched the dragon's shadow race across the highlands as they approached the small clearing he'd spotted from above.

Perhaps he could find Astrid later, then the two of them could catch a few fish and have dinner together before they rejoined the rest of the tribe. He enjoyed spending one-on-one time with his girlfriend, and these days he didn't get a whole lot of it. Before, the Dragon Academy had consumed a great deal of both Hiccup's and Astrid's time. Sure, they both enjoyed working together but at the Dragon Academy, they were always surrounded by other people. There was no time for just Astrid and Hiccup the couple, only Astrid and Hiccup the leaders of the Dragon Academy and future rulers of Berk.

 _The future rulers of Berk_ , Hiccup thought with a tired sigh. Since he was nearly eighteen, Hiccup had begun to take over some of his father's responsibilities as the leader of the tribe. Sure, his father didn't let him fight in the battles, but he was run off of his feet – er, foot – as it was running the Dragon Academy and dealing with those of the villagers' problems that did not require the expertise of Stoick.

Every spare moment he had, Astrid was almost always too busy overseeing something or other – she took her role as the wife-to-be of the future chief of Berk very seriously. He hadn't even proposed to her yet. On that topic, he should probably do so as soon as he got the chance to speak to her again because he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance to do so again.

And if he didn't have Astrid's help to run Berk when it came his turn, he was going to fall apart. He needed her.

Of course, he did love her too. His feelings for the blonde warrior had always been strong, although it seemed lately he had no time to contemplate how much he loved her. Astrid was as busy if not more so than he was, so whenever he wasn't passed out – which was more often in his study than in his bed – he was usually working in the smithy with Gobber. The twins had made several crude jokes about him taking out the frustrations of his relationship in the smithy, much to Snotlout's amusement and Hiccup's ire.

At least he didn't have combat training on top of all the rest of it.

It wasn't that he didn't need additional training in combat – as lucky as he was to have him, Toothless wouldn't always be able to protect Hiccup – the fact of the matter was simply that there was never any time to give him any proper training.

And with this war to contend with, things were even busier.

Hiccup dreaded the day when he became Chief of the tribe. He just didn't know how his father coped with all his chief duties, especially by himself. Hiccup had Astrid, Stoick had been looking after the village alone since Hiccup was very young.

How on earth was he going to cope when his father retired and Hiccup was left to do it all on his own? He was struggling as it was when the duties were divided between three of them – what was he going to do when that number went down to two?

Rubbing his temples in an attempt to chase away the headache that the stressful thoughts of his future had caused, Hiccup closed his eyes. After a few deep breaths, Hiccup wondered if a drink of water would help his headache, and moved to the stream with his hands cupped.

The water was refreshing and after a few mouthfuls he felt slightly better. Lowering his cupped hands for some more, a flash of blue in the corner of his eye drew his attention to something along the riverbank.

Hiccup turned to see what it was and found a puzzling sight. There was a cloud of blue smoke before him.

No, it wasn't smoke. Smoke didn't glow.

And was that _giggling_? Smoke most certainly didn't giggle.

"Is someone there?" He called out, but nothing answered him. And as he drew closer to the glowing blue smoke-thing, he realized that the giggling sound was coming from the strange creature before him.

It was the most perplexing thing he'd ever seen in his life, and he couldn't help be drawn towards it. He might have been more cautious, but his curiosity told him to abandon all fear. He had to find out what that – that _thing_ was!

He reached out towards it, and just as he was about to touch it, it vanished with what he thought sounded like the squeal of a playful child.

And then he found someone pointing a weapon in his face. "Don't ye move a muscle."


	3. Strike First

_Follow_ _the_ _Wisps_ _,_ they said,  _they_ _'_ _ll_ _lead_ _you_ _to_ _your_ _fate_ _._

All the wisps had led her to was a viking. He hadn't noticed her, thankfully. Or so she thought. Ducking behind the nearest tree, she held her breath, hoping he hadn't heard the rustling of her skirts or crunch of brush underfoot as she'd hidden.

It was not to be, as only second later, the boy called out, asking if anyone was there.

Funny, he didn't sound as rough or hostile as one might expect from a viking. No matter, the princess of DunBroch wasn't about to be captured by a viking because regardless of whether or not he seemed it at a glance, he was still a savage. A savage whose people had attacked a Celtic trading ship completely unprovoked.

Before he got the chance to strike first, she plucked an arrow from her quiver and her expert fingers fitted it to her bowstring.

Pointing her arrow at the young man – he was older than a boy, she noticed, perhaps even about her age – she now realized he hadn't been calling out to her. He'd been talking to the wisp. But he'd notice her for sure if she fled now, and she'd certainly end up with a missing limb, so she raised herself up to her full height and spoke first.

"Don't ye move a muscle."

So, the rumours weren't true after all. They said that vikings were savage brutes who didn't feel fear, but the look on this one's face showed he was different - he was absolutely terrified of her. As he looked up into her icy blue eyes with a pleading look, she couldn't help noticing that he had eyes of an unusual colour – at least around DunBroch. They were green.

She didn't get the chance to even consider lowering her bow, because suddenly a beast as black as the night appeared out of nowhere and attacked her from the side. Her bow was thrust downwards, throwing off her aim. For the first time in years she missed her shot. The arrow fired into the earth with a dull thud.

Her heart had been racing before, but now it was pounding against her chest with such ferocity she thought it might burst. She trembled in fear of the creature that now pinned her beneath her very own bow as though it was a strap against her abdomen, wondering why it had attacked her and not the boy - he was the easier target, not her! The beast opened its massive jaws as though it was going to bite her face off, and unleashed its deafeningly loud roar. She couldn't hold back the scream of terror that escaped her lips at that moment, her hands releasing her bow and flying to cover her ears in a hurry.

"Toothless, no!" The creature's screech cut off immediately at the sound of the boy's voice. The massive creature suddenly backed off.

She gasped, desperately drawing air into her lungs. The beast no longer pinning her beneath her own bow, she pushed it aside and rubbed her abdomen with a grimace, wondering if it would bruise where the wooden part of the bow had been forced against her hips by the beast.

To her surprise, the boy had placed himself between her and the black beast now, both of his hands in front of him, palms towards it as though to calm it down - or to surrender. And most incredibly of all, it seemed to be working. The beast seemed to be _obeying_ him.

"Sorry about that. He's a bit protective." The viking boy apologized as he turned to face her now, offering the fiery-haired princess a hand up. Regarding him with a suspicious gaze, she accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet.

"What are ye?" Merida asked, bending down to snatch her bow from the ground, because clearly this boy was not a viking. Not only did he feel fear, but he had also placed himself between her and the beast to protect her - no viking would do that. Then, to make things even more confusing, he had apologized and helped her up. He was certainly no viking savage. But then, who was he? He wasn't from around here, otherwise he'd be wearing a kilt instead of long trousers.

The black animal that had used her own bow against her snarled.

"I'm Hiccup." the boy said, before gesturing to the beast beside him. "And this is Toothless."

"Ah dinnae ask ye who ye were. Ah asked ye what ye were."

"Toothless is a dragon." he said with a sigh. "And I am his rider."

"Ye. . . ye have a dragon." Merida stated as though she didn't quite believe what she was hearing. "And it lets ye ride it."

"Uh, yeah, that's about it." Hiccup said with an uncomfortable nod. "So, I, uh, never got your name."

She ignored his question. "And is that _normal_ where ye come from?"

"It didn't used to be."

"And where is it that ye come from?"

"An island called Berk, you've probably never heard of it."

"Oh, aye, Ah've heard of it alright." Merida said, narrowing her eyes. "So ye're a viking after all."

Hiccup was not amused. "You know, you wouldn't believe how often I get that."

"Give me one good reason why I should not shoot ye, vikin' scum." Merida said, fitting another arrow to her bow. The dragon bared its teeth from behind the boy.

"Well, if that's what I get after saving you and offering you a hand up, I can't wait to meet the rest of the Celts." Hiccup deadpanned, waving his hand to quiet the dragon once more.

"Ye've got a lot of nerve, vikin'."

"Comes with the vest." He adjusted his fur waistcoat as he spoke. "More of a uniform, really."

"Ye think yer funny?" she demanded, raising the bow, and the dragon snarled, tensing as though it was about to spring at her again. "Yer the reason Ah've been cooped up in the castle for th' past two weeks!"

"Well, not me _specifically_."

"Ah've had about enough of yer cheek!" She snarled, drawing back her bow, causing the viking boy to flinch and pull his arms up over his head as though he thought his scrawny arms would protect him if she loosed an arrow.

"You know, if you shoot me, you're going to have a furious Night Fury on your hands." Hiccup said, as though he was pleading with her. "And my girlfriend can probably throw an axe as far as you can shoot that thing, and her dragon will shoot ten of those back at you."

As if on cue, Astrid's unmistakable voice broke through the tension and brought Merida's eyes to the skies. "HICCUP!"

"How many of ye are there?" Merida asked, drawing her bow back another half an inch, her attention returning to the green-eyed viking before her.

"Here? Just the two of us." Hiccup said. "Look, why don't we just pretend this whole thing never happened. I'll go my way and you go yours." She still didn't look convinced. "I'll try to convince the other vikings to stay closer to the coast, that we don't need to come this far inland."

"Why would ye do that?" Merida asked, suspicion and curiosity edging her tone, despite the glare on her face.

"Because I'm _different_. I befriended a dragon because I couldn't kill it. I'm not like the others." He said, turning to mount his dragon. She could have loosed her arrow at any time, but didn't.

"HICCUP!" Astrid's voice called out again.

Hiccup's eyes met Merida's, and she nodded, before she whirled and in a flourish of skirts, vanished into the woods. Within seconds he was in flight once more. "Astrid, over here!" He waved to his blonde girlfriend to catch her attention. Glancing down at the woods, he caught sight of the archer girl's fiery locks moving through the woods, and he tensed. Surely Astrid would see the redhead despite the leaf canopy. "Race you back!"


	4. Mercy

The squeal of the heavy oak door's hinges announced her arrival to her family and brought her mother over to her in a hurry. Flinching at the resounding thud of the door closing behind her, Merida rand a hand through her wild curls. "Sorry Ah'm late mum."

"Och, what have ye done to yer dress?" Elinor asked with an exasperated sigh as she took in the state of her daughter. There was several small tears in the fabric, and as she turned her daughter to disentangle a twig from her daughter's fiery locks, she found that her back was covered in dirt. "Merida, what happened?"

"Oh, erm, Angus spooked and threw me." Merida answered quickly. Pulling free from her mother's grasp and snatching an apple from the table.

"He must have seen the dragon." Elinor said with a frown.

Merida froze, nearly choking on her apple. For some reason, her blood had become ice cold. "Whot dragon?"

"Some of the guards spotted a dragon scouting the area." Elinor explained, a hand on her forehead as though she could feel a headache approaching. "As if we dinnae have enough to contend with already!"

"We'll just have to hope that they decide to settle elsewhere." Merida responded slowly, taking another bite of her apple.

"Not to worry, at least you're safe." Elinor said, briefly catching her daughter's face in her hands as she inspected her daughter's face for injuries.

* * *

"Alright Hiccup, start talking." Astrid commanded, pulling him aside as they made their way back to their lodgings on the ship.

"About what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the blonde warrior.

"You can start by telling me what's on your mind."

"There's nothing on my mind."

Suddenly the top of Astrid's battle axe was being pointed at his throat, forcing the dragon trainer to halt in his tracks. Resting her weight mostly on one leg, Astrid's free hand was on her hip and she did not look amused in the slightest. "You haven't said a word since we started back. One way or another, you're going to tell me what's up, Hiccup, don't make me drag it out of you – because you know I'll do it."

"It's really nothing for you to be concerned over."

_No, it's something that you wouldn't understand, not this time._

"Then why won't you tell me what it is?" Her battle axe finally swung down from his throat and back into its holder on Astrid's hip, allowing Hiccup to continue walking. "Come on Hiccup, we're a team - you and I – I'll always be by your side. You can tell me anything."

"I guess I just miss _us_ time." Hiccup said. He wasn't lying, _per say_ , he just wasn't telling the truth.

Astrid rolled her eyes. "You know I know you better than that. You're going to tell me the truth eventually, because I know you and you know me. Whatever it is, you can't hide it from me forever."

Hiccup gave a noncommittal grunt, already lost in his own thoughts once more.

_She had hesitated._

He'd proved them all wrong once, and he was sure he could do it again if given the chance. Everyone said that the Celts were barbarians and a worse enemy to have than the Dragons, that they'd skin you alive as soon as look at you, but the girl in the woods had _hesitated_.

She had had the opportunity to shoot him, to end his life and she had shown him mercy. That fact alone was enough to set the boy's mind running wild. He had believed in dragons and now he had sufficient evidence – or at least to him – to believe that not all Celts were savages. She had shown him mercy, and in doing so, she had given him hope for peace.

After all, _so had Toothless_.

* * *

"Are you unwell my dear?" Elinor asked, gently cupping her daughter' cheek with her hand. "You look a bit peaky."

Her mother's touch roused her from the thoughts in which she'd been lost. "Huh? Oh, er, no. Ah'm fine mum."

Elinor frowned. "Ah can't take the chance of you falling ill, not when all our supplies are going to the war effort. You'll have an early night tonight."

Merida rolled her eyes. "Ach, mum, Ah'm not ill."

"Bed, lass. That's not a suggestion." Elinor said firmly, giving her daughter _the look_.

Giving an exasperated sigh, Merida gave up the fight and did as her father had asked her – to obey her mother. Merida hadn't even made it halfway up the stairs before she was lost in her thoughts again.

The viking boy could have killed her. He had a dragon that he commanded which, as much as she did not want to admit it, was a much better weapon than her bow. He was part of the vikings' war effort – he had said so himself. He was going to try and keep the other vikings closer to the coast. But if he was part of the war effort and therefore her sworn enemy – why hadn't he killed her when he had the chance?

The wisps had led her to a viking that had shown her mercy.

_Why?_


	5. Foolishness

Turning over for what must have been the umpteenth time since she'd gone to bed, Merida breathed a very exaggerated sigh and sat up. She couldn't get comfortable – she had far too much on her mind to even think about sleep. She had more important things to think about. Things like the war and her father and Young MacGuffin.

And things like dragons.

Throwing her covers off, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. When her feet touched the cold wooden floor, she couldn't help but cringe, but she was not swayed from her mission. Quickly making her way to the hearth, she found a candle on the mantelpiece and lit it before she put her hand on the heavy oak door.

Carefully, she pulled on the brass handle and swung the door towards herself, trying her best to open it without disturbing the rest of the castle's residents. The halls of DunBroch castle were particularly good at carrying an echo, and the moment her mother heard a ruffle of fabric she'd be pacing her room, waiting on a guard to return from checking on the disturbance.

Ever since her father had gone off to war, Elinor had been more tightly wound than Merida had ever seen her before, and she had seen her mother quite tightly wound in the past.

Keeping a tight fist as she grasped the flowing fabric of her nightgown, she hoisted it up and held fast so that the skirts would not brush against the floors. Careful not to let the brass handle clink against the door as she slipped through the small space between her door and the wall, she moved like a ghost into the corridor.

She didn't even feel the cold stone floors of Castle DunBroch as she padded down the hallway with a candle in one hand and a bunch of her nightgown in the other.

Careful to avoid the ornaments and decorations placed throughout the castle, the princess made her way to one of the tapestries by the kitchen. Her mother didn't know, and Merida had no intention of telling her about the secret passageway that lay behind it. She already slept with her bedroom door bolted shut lest the vikings should manage to get into the castle while everyone slept – if she knew about the secret passageway, she would not have slept until they were safely sealed.

Moving the fabric aside, Merida was careful not to get the candle too close to it as she climbed up into the small stone passageway, not even caring as cobwebs and dust caught on her unruly red curls.

Leaving the candlestick on the floor of the passageway, Merida crept to the edge of the tunnel. Gently, she pushed the tapestry away from the wall and slid down the stone wall behind it, careful to catch the wooden pole that had been sewn to the bottom of it before it knocked against the wall and woke her mother.

Keeping low, she moved to her mother's bedside and reached onto her bedside table, grasping the heavy iron key. Her mother turned and Merida froze, her breath catching in her throat, but after a moment, she sighed and Merida was confident that her mother was sleeping, so she continued back across the room, up behind the tapestry, and onwards to her mother's study.

Sliding the key into the lock, Merida's heart was pounding as she turned the key slowly, hoping that the iron wouldn't screech or squeal as it sometimes did. Relief flooded her body when it clicked and she was able to slowly move the door on its hinges.

Slipping into the shadowy depths, Merida used her candlestick to locate the book she wanted: a hefty leather-bound volume that was written in an older tongue.

Pulling it off the shelf, she carried the heavy book to her mother's desk and opened it, holding the candlestick close to the page so that she had the light to read. Running her hand over the smooth pages, she was careful not to smudge the charcoal text as she struggled through the unfamiliar language.

* * *

"If we bombard them from the sea all at once, we can overthrow them and take their castle as a stronghold!" Stoick announced, earning cheers and murmurs of agreement from the surrounding vikings.

"We need more than that." Astrid said, shaking her head. "We need to hit them with everything, yes, but we can't focus on just one spot. Spitelout should take fifty people upstream. We'll hit 'em from the front, draw them out, and Spitelout will charge them from the back."

Stoick nodded, a grin spreading across his face as he clapped the girl on the back. "My future daughter-in-law has a mind fer strategy, tha's fer sure."

"We could even have some of the dragon riders distract them and draw them out." Astrid said. "Fire should do the trick."

"We don't want to damage the castle – there's no need for fire." Hiccup said quickly. "If we're going to have it as a stronghold, we don't want it damaged."

"The castle's predominantly made of stone, Hiccup." Gobber said.

"You know, now that I really think about it, that really doesn't seem terribly safe. I much prefer our houses back on Berk, much cozier and homier, ya know?"

"Hiccup, these are Celts. They won't stop until they've destroyed every one of those homes ye like so much." Stoick said. "They will kill every man, woman and child on the Isle of Berk. As a chief, yer job is protect yer own, and tha's what I will do until my dying breath. We'll do what Astrid suggested."

* * *

"Merida, I won't ask you again – _get up_!" Elinor said, pulling open the curtains of her daughter's bedroom. When the sunlight hit her face, she groaned and rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow.

She'd been up until nearly dawn, struggling with those ancient letters and the unfamiliar language and she had absolutely nothing to show for it. The Celts had next to nothing on dragons in the library of Castle DunBroch. About the only thing she'd actually found in the book about dragons was that they existed, but she already knew that.

"A princess does nae sleep until noon." Elinor told her daughter. "You have duties-"

"Och, I'm getting up." Merida growled, breathing a dramatic sigh. Sitting up in bed, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes before attempting - and failing - to stifle a massive yawn. "Mum, whot do ye know about dragons?"

Elinor, who had been on her way to the doorway of Merida's bedroom, paused. "There's no need for you to be worried, Castle DunBroch will not be brought down by a dragon."

" _Ah_ 'm not worried." Merida said under her breath, but instead she nodded to her mother. "An' whot about ridin' them?"

" _Riding dragons_?" Elinor repeated, scoffing in disbelief. "Really, Merida, I thought you were too old for this foolishness. Riding dragons? They're vicious beasts, Merida, as wild and untameable as the Viking Isles from whence they come."

And as Elinor left the room, Merida couldn't help glancing out of her tiny bedroom window to study the sky.

If wisps and witches were possible, why not dragon riding?


	6. Mantle of Responsibility

He'd never fancied himself a chief. Even as a young child, when he was sneaking out during dragon raids to try and prove his worth, he had known, deep down, that he would never be the chief.

And yet, here he was, years later, somehow being groomed for chiefdom by his overworked father and equally overworked girlfriend.

He did not envy his father one bit, although the chieftainship seemed to fill Stoick with fire and passion. He was a born leader, a person that others looked up to. And Hiccup couldn't even imagine himself that way - a leader of his people. Night Fury or not, Hiccup had never seen himself as that person. He wasn't someone that other people looked up to, he wasn't up to tackling the responsibilities of chiefdom.

He wasn't his father.

The more he thought about becoming Chief of his viking clan, the more he craved his freedom.

He wanted to be able to fly high above land and sea, to complete the map he'd only just begun to draw, but as the yoke of Chiefdom and accompanying mantle of responsibilities weighed heavier and heavier upon his shoulders, the less he looked forward to growing up.

As the war council meeting droned on, Hiccup began to realize just how exhausted this war effort was making him and his people, and he struggled not to rest his head in his hands.

"We need to send out another rider to scout-"

"I'll go!" His full attention grabbed immediately by the prospect of leaving the meeting, he grabbed his helmet and pushed his way out of the tent before anyone could protest. "I'll ready Toothless."

Rubbing his temples at his headache, he took a deep breath of the fresh, coastal air as he made his way across their encampment, trying to cleanse the thick, curdled smell of viking blood and sweat from his nostrils. The smell of the sea salt and woodsmoke would always remind him of home, although so did the stench of warriors, just in a much less pleasant way.

"Hiccup!"

A familiar voice penetrated his thoughts, and he turned, shifting his weight from his prosthetic leg to his real one.

"Hiccup, I've been calling after you for ages," Astrid said, her eyes carefully taking in the strained expression on his face.

"Oh, sorry, Astrid." He ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "My mind's been somewhere else all day."

"I can tell," Astrid said, gesturing forward and falling into step beside him. "You wanna talk about it?"

"It's nothing," Hiccup said with a shrug. "You know me, I don't particularly like going to war."

"None of us _want_ to go to war," Astrid pointed out. "Sometimes you just. . . don't have any other option."

"Do you believe that?" Hiccup asked, his brow furrowing. "That we don't have any other option?"

"I trust Stoick," Astrid said, gently putting a hand on Hiccup's forearm as they came to a stop next to Toothless. Distracted, Hiccup gave the dragon a gentle pat. "Your father is the chief of Berk, he wouldn't endanger his people by going to war if it wasn't completely necessary."

Hiccup took a deep breath but didn't answer. As he climbed into Toothless' saddle, he couldn't help the feeling that something abut all this just wasn't sitting quite right. There was no denying that his father had come a very long way. Once upon a time, dragons and vikings had been enemies, but then Hiccup had befriended Toothless and realized that dragons were not all bad.

But it had cost Hiccup a leg to convince Stoick of that.

And although things had changed a great deal since then, Hiccup wasn't thoroughly convinced that his father had given enough consideration to the idea of trying to broker peace with the Celts.

Without another word, he took flight on Toothless, leaving Astrid below in the viking encampment. And she stayed exactly where he'd left her until he and Toothless had become nothing more but a spec of black in the sky, the worried expression never leaving her face.

* * *

She supposed that most found it restful to stay cooped up in DunBroch Castle instead of actually living, but she couldn't think of a single thing more exhausting than doing absolutely nothing. She was beside herself with boredom and her three wee brothers were not making her confinement any easier.

But as she stared at the haggis before her, completely lacking the appetite to eat it, some sort of commotion at the great oak doors drew their attention away from dinner. Elinor, of course, had already noticed the messenger who awaited her, and without another word, she dismissed them from the table and swept away into Fergus's war council room.

Left to their own devices, her brothers promptly abandoned their haggis and fled the dining hall, pursued by their easily frustrated and often overwhelmed nursemaid, Maudie.

Finding herself alone and unsupervised for a moment, Merida slipped out into the hallway and all but sprinted to her quarters, where she snatched up her bow before making her way through the kitchens and out to the stables.

Her mother would be in her father's council room for hours, so she had a bit of time to herself.

Throwing her leg over her trusty steed, Angus, she nudged him with her calves and he took off, seeming as much as ill at ease with how little they ventured beyond the castle walls these days as she was.

* * *

Angus's powerful muscles bunching beneath her with each great stride, she was overcome with a feeling of total elation as they all but flew through the glen. His massive hooves thundered across the moss-covered earth, seeming to eat up the ground with the same ravenous hunger for freedom that she herself felt.

Raising her bow, her fingers gently drew a fletched arrow. With a breath, she loosed it, but before the arrow had even reached its painted target, a dapple of shadows above them made Angus spook. She almost lost her bow entirely as she threw herself low over his withers in an attempt to keep her seat.

Drawing him back to a steadier pace, her blue eyes squinting against the bright sunlight until she realized what had spooked her beloved horse.

Soaring high above the treetops was a creature with a wingspan twice the length that Angus was tall.

Carefully, Merida nudged Angus forward, nocking an arrow to her bow as she kept a close eye on the amount of tree-cover between herself and their unwitting aerial companions.

The dragon rider had spared her life once, and although she had considered that perhaps Vikings could be reasonable, she didn't fancy giving him the opportunity to change his mind about letting her live.


	7. Outnumbered

As she carefully watched the dragon rider overhead, squinting as sunlight pierced through the leaves and dappled the ground beneath Angus's hooves, her fingers anxiously holding the arrow she'd fit to her bow, prepared to strike in an instant.

She and the dragon rider had formed a bond some days prior, borne of mercy, when he had decided to set her free rather than kill her after his dragon had rendered her helpless.

It was not a bond she so desired to break, but the centuries of blood feuds and war between her people and his had not left her feeling quite assured that he wouldn't, given a second chance to catch her unaware or otherwise defenceless.

But while the princess felt more assured when she was the one in pursuit of the dragon rider, her mount did not share the sentiment, and was spooking at every leaf that so much as rustled in the breeze.

And so, she should have been prepared enough to keep her seat when the dragon rider swooped down into the clearing in front of them, and Angus startled, squealing in terror and whirling around, sending his rider flying into a heap on the forest floor before he fled in terror. His massive buckler-sized hooves thundered across the peat in his desperation to escape such an apex predator.

Biting her lip to stifle a sob of frustration that she'd let herself be thrown yet again, she scooped her arrows back into the quiver and scrambled into the undergrowth, lest the dragon rider find her out in the open with her ammo astray.

* * *

They were both capable adults who could look after themselves, sure, but he had hardly seemed of the right mind as of late. He was distracted and evasive – there was something that he wasn't telling her, and she was not buying his excuse that he just didn't enjoy going to war.

There was something else at play here, and if he wasn't going to tell her what it was, she was going to find out for herself.

He had to know her well enough to know that she wasn't about to let him shut her out and suffer in silence.

It wasn't like she didn't have the capacity to understand whatever was going on with him – they were as good a team as ever there was one, like two parts of a whole. She knew him better than anyone, they were best friends as well as romantic partners. And so, she found it deeply troubling that he refused to confide in her about whatever was bothering him.

But he was nowhere to be found. She'd been out for hours now, and although she was supposed to scouting the lands in preparation for their mission, her eyes had barely even skimmed the ground. She wasn't looking for Celts, she was looking for Hiccup.

Spying a clearing, she guided Stormfly to their ground.

They'd only be a few moments, to give the dragon a chance to rest, and they'd be back to their search. She'd been demanding a lot of stamina from Stormfly, who had been more than willing to oblige, but Astrid was still careful not to push her too far – she didn't want to exhaust her pet and partner and leave them both stranded in hostile territory.

But her intentions to let the dragon rest were forgotten the moment they dipped below the treetops, only to be greeted with a squeal of terror and a thunder of hooves. Astrid grimaced, mentally scolding herself for not having been more careful.

They were not alone.

* * *

Her blood ran ice cold as she laid her eyes on the great blue beast in the clearing.

This was not the dragon rider that she'd met before, and she doubted that the fierce looking blonde woman was as forgiving and merciful as the scrawny boy who'd called off his dragon during her last run-in with a viking.

Her fingers, although slightly numb from the force of having broken her fall only moments earlier, were still nimble as she nocked a new arrow to her bow.

She'd been optimistic, but it was clear that the warrior had heard Angus's flight of terror. Ducking low to minimize her size as a target, the viking woman and her dragon looked more than ready for a fight, and Merida, although both outnumbered and out-weaponed by her opponents, was more than ready to oblige if this invader scum was looking for a fight.

And her mother had said a princess shouldn't have weapons.

The dragon's cat-like gaze fixed on her hiding spot, Merida began to weave her way through the bushes, careful not to reveal or otherwise draw attention to herself, but the dragon's eyes stayed transfixed on her, as though it could see her through the undergrowth.

"There's no point hiding," The viking woman called out. "She can still hear _and_ smell you."

Grimacing, the redhead drew her bow, preparing to shoot at the woman when suddenly the dragon's attention shifted, looking curiously past her into the brush. And the dragon's viking master seemed to have heard it too, and froze momentarily.

Merida could feel it underfoot, the rumble of hooves and the shouts of the soldiers.

And then suddenly, they burst through a bush, some yards back. In a single, swift motion, the viking was back in the dragon's saddle, her great wings beating the air as she took flight. A volley of arrows flew towards the great beast, but every one of them missed as the horses all shied at the sight of the enormous blue lizard.

Reinforcements had arrived.

As the soldiers struggled to steady their mounts, several still aiming at the airborne fiend, the princess of Dunbroch stepped out into the clearing, arrow ready. With a breath, her arrow soared into the air, just as the dragon showered them with sharp spines.

Wood splintered, and there were cries of pain. Something warm and metallic-smelling splattered against the side of her face.

The soldier closest to her gave a groan and sank to his knees.

Narrowly avoiding something large hitting her in the head, she stared in stunned silence as a shield hit the earth in front of her feet with a dull _thud!_ A massive crack down the centre of the targe told her that the sound of splintering wood had been the dragon's projectiles piercing his shield – the shield that he'd held over her head instead of his own.

Her face frozen in an expression of horror, she dropped to her knees beside the man, staring helplessly as crimson welled up around a single large spine that was protruding from his chest, soaking through the tartan and leather alike.

And only then did she realize that the wetness on her face was blood.

His blood.

The bond of mercy had been broken.


	8. Blood and Battle Scars

It wasn't that she'd never seen anyone die before, because she'd watched her own mother put an end to Mor'du in the glen, only a few months prior. But that had been clean and swift – he'd been crushed under a boulder in the midst of battle.

And there were plenty of ailments for which there was no cure. And casualties of war. And accidents that often left people dead or severely maimed. Her own father had lost his leg in battle. Countless men had died in the kingdom of DunBroch before, many just as violently as this one.

But none as preventable and none as irrefutably her fault.

"Whot was his name?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper as one of the soldiers offered her a fresh mount.

"Cynwrig, mi'lady." the soldier answered, dipping low to offer the princess a boost into the saddle.

Not even trying to look dignified, she bit her lip. "Thank ye."

And for the first time since she'd been tall enough to grasp a horse's withers, she let him give her a boost into the saddle of Cynwrig's steed.

* * *

He didn't particularly want to dive headfirst into a battle, but his tendency to do that was one trait he _had_ inherited from Stoick. It was and always had been the viking way. That was how he'd met Toothless, after all, by sprinting into the fray.

But before he reached her, she began her retreat.

A familiar flash of ginger caught his eye as they soared past the clearing, and his stomach dropped.

"Astrid!" he called, urging Toothless faster to catch up with her.

He found her grimacing in pain, and it didn't take his eyes long to pinpoint why. Protruding from her bicep was a single arrow, which looked to be fairly deeply embedded in her flesh, crimson staining the fur and leather armour she wore.

"What happened?"

"Ambush," She said through gritted teeth, sounding very much as though she was mentally scolding herself for not having been able to avoid it. "I know you don't want a war - I don't either - but they're savages and murderers, Hiccup. It was nowhere near a fair fight."

He frowned, leaning low to get a closer look at her wound.

And his stomach sank as he recognized the bear symbol painted on the shaft of the arrow.

The very same arrow that had been pointed at his own face just a few days earlier.

A combination of guilt and dread hit him like a punch in the gut.

 _That should have been me_.

* * *

At the first glimpse of ginger at the gates, Elinor had sprinted from her seat at the window that overlooked the courtyard. Her knuckles turning white as she gripped her skirts so fiercely that she almost tore them in her haste to reach the bottom of the stairs. Fear gripped her insides like claws of ice, and for a moment, she hesitated.

_What if. . ._

No, she mustn't.

Angus had come back without is rider several times before, and this time would be no different.

And with that, she pushed through the grand oak doors and out into the courtyard, stopping dead and giving a strangled cry at the sight of the blood splattered across her daughters face.

Her knees buckled under her weight and she didn't even seem to notice as she collapsed in the mud, her hands clapped so tightly around her mouth that she could nae even breath. She didn't even seem to register her ladies in waiting as they scrambled to her side to help her back to her feet.

And then Merida looked her way and Elinor's breath caught in her throat.

 _She was alive_.

Overcome with relief, Elinor almost laughed, suddenly remembering to breathe once more. Scrambling to her feet, she nearly pushed her ladies out of her way as she strode across the courtyard towards her daughter, trying her best to look stern despite the tears of relief welling up in her wide brown eyes.

"Er, hi mum." Merida said softly, sliding off the horse carefully.

Her freckles stood out stark against her fair face, which was as pale as Elinor had ever seen it, under all the blood. Normally so fully of life and vigour, passion and strong will, the princess returning with the soldiers hardly even seemed a shadow of the headstrong girl that had run off to the glen that morning.

"Whot have ye done?" Elinor asked gently, taking her daughter's face in her hands to inspect her for injuries.

"It's not-" Merida choked, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes filling with tears, she bit her lip and threw her arms around her mother, burying her face in the rich green fabric of her gown as her shoulders trembled with a repressed sob. "I'm sorry – I won't – do i' again."

"Come on," Elinor said gently, putting a protective arm around her daughter and leading her back inside the castle. "That's a good lass."

And with that, everyone sprang back into motion and the soldiers lead their great warhorses to the stables, and the ladies hurried from the courtyard in pursuit of their mistress.

* * *

A wooden ladle in her mouth, she did her best not to grimace too noticeably as Gobber pulled the arrow from her arm. Of all the battle scars she could have ended up with, a simple arrow hardly ranked on any viking scale of impressiveness. The scar that would be left by the extraction would be more impressive than the scar left by the arrow itself.

"I'm so sorry, Astrid," Hiccup said, putting a hand over hers.

She shrugged noncommittally with the side of her body that wasn't in the midst of being bandaged.

"They hid like cowards," Astrid said. "What more could you have done? Besides burn the forest to to the ground so they've got nowhere left to hide, I mean."

And with that, her eyes narrowed.

As Gobber finished bandaging her arm, she murmured her thanks.

"C'mon," she said, grabbing Hiccup by the hand as she lead him out into their war encampment – right to Stoick's tent. Announcing the both of them, Astrid didn't even hesitate before dipping inside.

Hiccup frowned.

"Astrid, Hiccup," Stoick greeted them fondly, his eyes narrowing when he spied the fresh bandage on Astrid's arm.

"I don't know what's they're playing at." Astrid growled. "They goaded us out here by attacking our ships without provocation. Now that we're here, they're hiding like cowards and trying to pick us off one by one."

Stoick frowned but nodded, bidding her to continue as he absentmindedly stroked his fiery red beard.

"Let's see if they actually know how to use those weapons they tote around."

Hiccup felt his blood run cold.

"We'll burn down the trees," Astrid's voice cracked, and she paused for a moment to swallow her anger and frustration. "Let's see how well they fight when they have nowhere left to hide."


End file.
